


Draw a Straight Line

by Tabithian



Series: Light the Path [12]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 21:49:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4495944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick may have all kinds of protective (and overprotective) instincts when it comes to Tim, but he's an idiot if he doesn't think Tim has the same exact ones regarding Dick. They've only been here for a few days, less than a week, and he knows Bruce and the others are looking for them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Draw a Straight Line

**Author's Note:**

> Anon asked for Dick or Tim struggling to keep the other one alive in a shitty situation, so you know. Alien death match-thing, why not. /o\

Tim looks at Dick, battered and worn, and sighs. "Dick - "

" _Tim_ ," Dick says, not opening his eyes. Hurt, Tim knows, exhausted.

Tim shakes his head and looks over to where their other cellmate is crouched, watching them. 

Raises his eyebrow, jerks his chin towards Dick. 

Their cellmate looks surprised, wary, but moves out of his crouch to slither towards them. Glances at Dick, who barely twitches at his proximity, and leans back on his haunches, watching Tim.

For his part, Tim looks at Dick, knows he'll get killed if he goes into the ring again, is in no shape to fight. Neither of them are, if he's going to be honest with himself, but.

But Tim is the one still on his - admittedly shaky - feet, and Dick is not. 

Dick may have all kinds of protective (and overprotective) instincts when it comes to Tim, but he's an idiot if he doesn't think Tim has the same exact ones regarding Dick. They've only been here for a few days, less than a week, and he knows Bruce and the others are looking for them. 

Knows the Titans, _Bruce_ , are coming for them, and every bit of time Tim can buy them is one more moment closer to rescue.

"Do it," he says, wondering if what he's doing is going to get Dick killed anyway. 

Tim got a minor dose of their cellmate's venom when they were first thrown together, enough to put him out for a few hours, out Dick into the ring instead of Tim. (Hopes their cellmate was telling the truth when he told him what his venom could do.)

Dick's head comes up at that, eyes hazed with pain and confusion in the moment before their cellmate strikes, almost too fast to see. 

Tim swallows his nausea down, doesn't meet Dick's eyes, doesn't want to see whatever he'll see there on his face. (Shock, betrayal, _worse_.) 

It's. 

Dick will die if he goes into the ring again, and Tim knows how hard he'll fight to keep Tim from going in his place. (He tells himself this is the only way, this will keep Dick safe, but self-doubt raises its head, asks, _really?_ and _are you so sure?_ and _you're going to be what kills him._ )

"Tim - "

Faint, fading as the venom takes effect. 

Enough to kill whatever their cellmate's people hunted on their planet millennia ago. On humans it's less potent, unpleasant, but it doesn't kill. (Hadn't killed Tim, but he hadn't gotten a full dose, and he was healthy at the time, and what did he just do?)

Their cellmate, small, fast, moves back. Orange eyes lighting on Tim before he resumes his crouch, forked tongue licking Dick's blood from his lips, patient. 

Waiting.

Tim uses what's left of his cape to cover Dick, small comfort, and turns to their cellmate.

Alien, and Tim can't even begin to pronounce his name, but he answers to what the guards call him, what the crowds chant when he goes into the ring. (Small, fast, vicious.)

"He'll be okay?"

Kaz cocks his head, eyes darting towards Dick and back to Tim. "It matters to you?"

Tim nods, guilt heavy on his tongue. "Yes."

Kaz studies him for a long moment, and then nods, mimicking Tim. "He will recover."

Tim feels some of the tension leave him at that, rests a hand on Dick's shoulder. "Watch him for me?"

It's. 

He's used his favor with Kaz already, he knows, earned in pain and blood and broken bones, but.

Kaz nods again, moving around to Dick's side. "I will." 

Pauses. 

Looks at Tim who is doing marginally better than Dick. 

"And you?"

Tim tries for a smile, fails. "I'll be fine."

Kaz snorts at that. 

"You humans," he says, tasting the air with his tongue. "So foolish."

Kaz has seen other humans brought here before, seen them fall in the ring. (Been the reason they never went home again.)

Tim smiles, crooked and small. 

"Incredibly," he says, watches the rise and fall of Dick's chest.

Pushes guilt, regret, self-doubt down deep because they'll get him killed in the ring, get Dick killed.

Kaz watches him go to the door of their cell to call to the guards.

He doesn't think they'll refuse his offer - no matter what, the fights must continue - and he knows everyone in the arena would love to see either one of them brought down, Bruce's legacy known even here.

********

Tim wonders, in a vague sort of way, what would have happened if the Titans had just said , _no, not this time_ , when trouble came calling.

If Dick hadn't gotten that look on his face. If the rest of the Titans hadn't said _yes, there is injustice here, we can't stand for that_. If any of them had seen the trap in time and Dick hadn't been stupidly heroic, Tim making sure someone was watching his back.

"Why don't you make this easy on yourself, sprog?"

Tim shows his teeth, backs away from the hulking behemoth with the metal club and tells himself his rib are fine, absolutely not broken. His knee doesn't feel like its on fire, and that the world is in perfect focus. 

Hears alarms in the distance, yelling and shouting that have nothing to do with the fight and everything to do with - 

"Yeah," Tim isn't really feeling all that witty at the moment. "Thanks but no thanks."

His opponent _smiles_ , fangs sharp and gleaming and Tim knows there's no possible way this can end well. 

He takes a breath, two, and sprints forward, dropping at the last moment to slide between his opponent's legs. He's not going to last much longer, but damned if he isn't going to go down without a fight.

"Come on!" he yells, angling towards the gates leading to the cells Dick and the others are held in. "Show me what you've got!" 

Stupid. Stupid and reckless and sure to get him killed, but. 

It works.

Dalen howls, rage and fury, and charges, the huge metal pipe he's using as a weapon slamming into the ground inches from Tim as he rolls out of the way. 

Comes up on one knee and smirks, raises a hand. Makes a _bring it_ gesture that goads Dalen into rushing for him. Barely dodges the swing, backs away and waits.

_Dalen _roars_ , fury and rage and murderous intent as he runs towards Tim, pipe held high._

__

Tim grins, bloody, and slides out of the way moments before Dalen crashes into the gate, momentum and sheer mass breaking through. 

Tim doesn't hesitate, scrambling around in the dust and debris that's been kicked up. Vaults over Dalen's fallen form and runs towards the cells. 

The chaos is louder here, alarms and guards yelling over each other.

Tim trips up a guard or two before he reaches the guard station, catches a glimpse of familiar figures on a security monitor, and laughs, short, sharp as he takes the guards on duty out.

Takes a nasty hit to the ribs that makes the world go white, bone grating against bone, but he pushes through the pain to slam a hand on the release control for the cells. 

One moment, two, to breathe, ribs definitely broken, cheek hot and aching, probably broken, and pushes off to find Dick before it's too late. Stumbles down the dark corridors, slinking past the other prisoners who are doing their best to get away, and Tim.

Tim has to lean against the wall as one of the prisoners brushes past too close, drops to his knees and concentrates on breathing through the pain, staying conscious.

"Foolish." Kaz is in front of him when he regains control, Dick leaning heavily against him. He studies Tim for a moment, strange eyes narrowing as he takes in Tim's current state. "So very, very foolish."

Tim doesn't know what to say, because. _Dick_.

"Timmy, we're going to have a long talk when we get home," Dick mumbles, slurs, slowly lifting his head to look at Tim. 

Tim opens his mouth to say something to that, what he doesn't know, when Dalen comes lurching down the corridor towards them, screaming incoherently, eyes landing on Tim with single-minded focus.

"Run," Tim says, never taking his eyes from Dalen. Pushes at Dick and Kaz when they hesitate. "Go! Run, I'll be right behind you."

Kaz looks at Tim as though he knows what a lie his words are, and Dick - 

“Tim, _no_.”

Every bit of time Tim can buy them is one more moment closer to rescue.

Tim smiles, small and crooked. 

His priorities shifted from the two of them getting out of this place to getting _Dick_ out of here a while ago.

Looks at Kaz, who sighs.

“Foolish,” he says, little more than a hiss.

“Incredibly,” Tim says, watches him pull Dick away despite his protests.

Tim turns.

Sets his feet, feels a smirk pull at his mouth as Dalen tosses aside a cluster of prisoners in his way.

He can buy them a little more time at least.

********

Dalen's roars and cries of rage echo and rebound on the walls around them, and Tim. Tim smirks, blood in his mouth, body pushed beyond its limits, and waits. Dalen's frenzied, hide scored in a dozen places by the jagged piece of metal Tim's scavenged from the wreckage.

"Come on!" Tim yells, feeling something _give_ in his throat, but he doesn't care, doesn't care because Dick is safe. 

(He can hear the sounds of pitched fighting, Amazonian battle cries. Diana and her little sisters, Tim thinks, because the Titans and Bruce and of course the League would answer this call to arms.)

Done his job because Dick is safe, and it doesn't even matter that they won't get to him in time. There's no cover to be had, and Tim can't run, can barely move, but he's won. (A better victory, he can't imagine.)

Dalen charges, and for once, Tim doesn't move fast enough.

"Tim!"

It's okay, though, because Kon's there. 

Kon's there, and so are Bart and Cassie and the rest of the Titans. 

A sweep of black across his field of vision and there's Bruce, Clark. (The League.)

Tim slumps against the wall, watches them take Dalen down, a punch from Kon staggering him, Clark catching him from the other side and sending him into the wall.

Diana and her sisters tangling him up and dragging him down and keeping him there, and Bruce.

“Hey, B,” Tim says, as Bruce kneels next to him. “You would not believe my day.”

(Day, week, they all kind of blur together.)

********

Tim doesn't remember the trip home, doesn't remember much at all until suddenly there's Dick standing at the foot of his bed looking pretty terrible, all bruises and bandages and prominent bones. (Two little marks on his throat the right shape for a pair of fangs, skin around them red and angry looking even now.)

And then - 

“Hey, Tim.” 

“Dick.”

Dick smiles, cocks his head and says, “Remember when I said we were going to have a talk when we got home?”

Tim.

“Vaguely?”

Dick _smiles_. 

“Oh good, then.”

********

There's. 

Dick isn't yelling, but Tim thinks it might be better if he was.

Bruce comes in at some point, stands next to Dick and _looks_ at Tim. 

Alfred's timing is impeccable as always when he pokes his head in. 

“Hmm, I do wonder where young Master Timothy would learn such behavior. Truly, it is a mystery.”

There's a certain kind of silence after that.

Dick and Bruce looking at one another, and then they both look at Alfred, such identical expressions on their faces.

“Indeed,” Tim says, collapses into laughter even though it's not the best thing for him, because.

_Their faces._

********

“Never again, okay?” Dick says, after Bruce has gone down to the Batcave, Alfred tending to matters elsewhere.

There's something vulnerable in Dick's eyes that makes Tim's chest hurt, _ache_ because he can't promise that anymore than Dick or Bruce could, and they both know it.

Sometimes, though, sometimes it's nice to think they could. (Sometimes it means everything.)

Tim smiles, small and crooked. 

“Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> *hands*


End file.
